


F*ck Feelings

by jadehqknb



Series: Ship Fics [30]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Confession, Brief Depictions of Violence, Dumb boys being dumb, Fighting, First Kiss, M/M, Some Cursing, featuring other seijoh team members, frustrated feelings, some making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: There was something prickling at Yahaba's skin that he couldn't quite place a finger on. That was until Kyoutani laid all ten of his on him.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Ship Fics [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1137458
Comments: 8
Kudos: 255





	F*ck Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Song on loop: [Tattoo, by Quietdrive](https://open.spotify.com/track/15RdRORl0inOXTvVQxLwHx?si=WpwfwEH-T0WQXRg12JuE6g)
> 
> Thanks to Bee for [prompt #12](https://sentence-fragments.tumblr.com/post/128655641230/101-fluffy-prompts): **“I can't stop thinking about you”**  
> 

Something was up, Yahaba just knew it. Ever since the game that cost the third years their spotlight on the main stage something had shifted in the team. At first, he thought it was because their senpai had retired from the club, leaving behind shoes that felt too big to fill some days. 

However, careful scrutinizing had shown him that wasn’t the culprit. Sure, they were all sad while simultaneously foaming at the mouth for ‘revenge’ but this feeling of something _off_ was coming from somewhere else. 

It was at practice one day that he would finally learn the source. Pulling off his shirt, Yahaba had just tossed it into his locker when the unmistakable sound of flesh against metal and a grunt of pain hit his ears. He turned in the direction of the noise, surprised to see Kyoutani shaking his hand and practically running out of the room.

“Did he punch the locker?” he asked Kindaichi who was standing with wide eyes turned to where a moment before their ‘mad-dog’ had just been. 

“I think so?” the middle blocker replied. 

“You know it’s going to be a bad day when mad-dog picks fights with inanimate objects,” Kunimi grumbled, shutting his own locker and meandering towards the door. 

Kindaichi followed him, spinning around to shut his forgotten door and then sprinting after to catch up. 

Yahaba sighed as he continued to change. 

Just great. 

The last thing he needed was an even more grouchy Kyoutani. Shutting his locker, he headed into the gym, shouting to the mingling members of the team, “Oi! Time to warm up! Laps! Let’s go!” He took off running, smirking to himself at the thunder of feet behind him. He led them outside, eager for some fresh air since they would be holed up in the heat of the gym for a few hours soon enough. The slap of aggressive strides made him look over his shoulder, eyes widening slightly as Kyoutani blasted past him. “Don’t burn out!” he shouted at his back, earning a middle finger. 

Growling, he considered running the guy down and giving him yet another lecture about respect—this time for himself as captain—but he needed his energy for practice and decided to let it go. 

Maybe Kyoutani had a bad day and just needed to expend extra energy. 

They made it back to the gym, finding Kyoutani waiting for them with his scowl seeming darker despite the flush of exertion on his cheeks. Yahaba led the team through stretches, that feeling of ‘wrongness’ itching against his skin the entire time. He roamed his gaze over each member of the team, checking for proper form and reminding some of them to breathe as they stretched. When he reached Kyoutani, their eyes locked, and something akin to electricity seemed to crackle between them. 

It was so surprising, Yahaba blinked, frowning when he caught what looked like a faint smirk almost breaking up Kyoutani’s scowl.

Yahaba had the lingering feeling he’d _lost_ and it irritated him as much as it bewildered him. He found himself regretting his earlier failure to nip Kyoutani’s piss poor attitude in the bud when, as practice went on, he used every interaction with Yahaba as an opportunity to oppose or argue with him. 

After another failed spike attempt, Kyoutani wheeled round on Yahaba, his eyes blazing. “What the fuck is your issue, dude?! You call that a set?” 

Yahaba could feel the eyes of the team darting back and forth between himself and the disgruntled wing spiker. Unable to stand not only Kyoutani's shitty attitude but also his own shortcomings, he snapped, “ _My_ issue? What’s _your_ problem? You’re the one constantly fucking up today! I put the ball exactly where it needed to be, _you_ just couldn’t get there, though only gods know why! Maybe instead of ‘mad-dog’, we should call you _bitch_ because that’s what you’ve been acting like since you got here!” 

The entire team fell silent following his outburst but Yahaba didn’t have time to enjoy his victory when Kyoutani launched himself at him, his fist flying forward. Yahaba barely managed to dodge the strike but his avoidance of it sent him off balance and he crashed to the ground, a snarling Kyountani landing heavily on him, his fingers clenching the collar of his shirt tight enough to rip seams. He tried for another hit, but Yahaba was too quick, snagging the wrist of his punching hand and driving his knee upwards in an effort to nail his junk.

If the guy was gonna fight dirty, he would gladly respond in kind. 

The noise of shouting and dismay blended into white noise rushing through Yahaba’s ears as he worked to defend himself. He managed to get his foot planted, bucking up to dislodge Kyoutani from his perch and rolled them over, his fingers gripping Kyoutani’s shirt and raising his head from the ground until their noses were almost touching. “Get a grip, you stupid asshole or I swear to god, Nationals or not, I will kick your ass off this team hard enough you’ll feel it until graduation,” he shouted in his face. 

For a moment, no one moved, scarcely seemed to breathe, but then Kyoutani was shoving Yahaba off him, scrambling to his feet and stomping to the locker room. 

“So… that happened,” Kunimi muttered. 

“Are you ok Yahaba-senpai?” Kindaichi asked, flustered. “It all happened so fast… I couldn’t get… I tried…”

Yahaba placed a hand on his shoulder, stilling his speech. “It’s fine,” he assured, still breathing hard. He looked to Watari. “Handle things while I deal with this.” 

The libero nodded, clapping his hands and calling attention to the team to return to their drills. 

Yahaba marched to the locker room to find Kyoutani with his shirt off, seated on one of the benches, seeming to catch his breath. He started when Yahaba slammed the locker room door shut, latching it and leaning against it, his arms crossed and his eyes hard. “Now, you have _one_ chance to explain yourself, so, no bullshit,” he said, surprised by his own calm. 

Kyoutani was on his feet now, staring at him with a heaving chest that Yahaba should _not_ have been noticing was rather chiseled and sweat streaked. 

When the wing spiker remained silent, Yahaba shrugged. “We’re not going anywhere until this is dealt with. You already know I can keep you here if I want, so, might as well start talking.”

Growling, Kyoutani stalked across the room, slamming his palm against the wall right next to Yahaba’s head but the setter didn’t move, merely stared back into burning orbs. After a few tense seconds of silence, Kyoutani finally grunted, “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s pissing me off!” 

_That_ made Yahaba’s eyes widen, his heart beating a bit faster and his breath coming a little quicker as he realized their position mirrored in reverse the time his temper had gotten the best of him and he’d pushed Kyoutani to the wall in the hopes to literally knock some sense into him. 

And maybe instill a little fear of his own. 

He came back to himself and narrowed his eyes, pushing against Kyoutani, indignation flooding his chest. “And that’s _my_ fault? What the fuck, Kyoutani! It’s not like I control your mind, your thoughts!” He shoved again and the backs of Kyoutani’s knees hit the edge of the bench making him land heavily on his ass. “And, what, you thought it was a better idea to act like a complete and utter douchebag? What are we, _ten_? You wanna pull my hair, too?”

Kyoutani flushed, his eyes dropping from Yahaba’s who choked on his next breath. “You… you do, don’t you? You want to pull my hair…”

“Shut up!” Kyoutani snapped, trying to stand but Yahaba had already moved closer, landing on his lap, his knees protesting the bite of hardwood against bone but he ignored the pain. “What the fuck are you doing?” the boy beneath him ground out between clenched teeth. 

“Finishing this,” Yahaba replied then pressed his lips to Kyoutani’s. _And starting something else_ Yabaha thought when—to his relief—instead of launching his ass to the ground, Kyoutani’s strong grip on his hips pulled him closer. 

He lanced his tongue into the waiting heat of Kyoutani’s mouth, moaning against his lips. “You can, you know?” he said when they’d parted to inhale lungfuls of air. 

“Can, what?” Kyoutani asked, nipping Yahaba’s neck. 

“You can pull my hair,” Yahaba replied. 

Instantly, Kyoutani’s fingers dug into his hair, laced through its strands and tugged firmly. Yahaba moaned again, his hips listing on their own accord and he realized very quickly what a good but also bad idea it was being in such a position. They were pressed close together making it impossible for them not to feel the evidence of each other’s arousal and he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of taking another step forward in the smelly locker room where the team would be coming back any moment. He groaned at another tug of his hair and nip of his lips and marveled to find himself somewhat of a masochist. He gave as good as he got, however, scoring angry trails down Kyoutani’s back making him grunt then growl and Yahaba almost laughed at how very dog-like he was. 

“We should stop,” Yahaba panted, trying to pull away. 

“Don’t wanna,” Kyoutani insisted, sneaking a hand up Yahaba’s shirt to tweak a nipple. 

“Fuck!” Yahaba cried out, hand flying to the one beneath his shirt to cage against his chest before things got further out of control. “I mean, we should stop this _here_.” 

“The door’s locked,” Kyoutani countered, pulling his hand free and smacking it to Yahaba’s ass. 

“Kyoutani, I swear, I will grind my knee so hard against your dick you won’t be able to get an erection for the rest of the day,” Yahaba hissed. He captured Kyoutani’s face between his hands, palms smacking his cheeks slightly as he took hold and looked into his eyes. “I’m not saying _no,_ I’m saying not _right now_ , ok?” 

He waited, gratified when Kyoutani nodded. 

“OK then, let me go before the rest of the guys come looking to make sure we haven’t killed each other and I have a riot on my hands.” 

Begrudgingly, Kyoutani did let go and Yahaba took a deep breath to center himself, willing his erection to chill out. He headed to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, glad to find Kyoutani with a new shirt on, waiting for him. 

“By the way, if this thing between us is going to work, you need to stop being such an asshole,” Yahaba said. "Well, as much as you can manage, I guess." 

“Takes one to know one,” Kyoutani snipped. 

“Uh, no. Anyone with half a brain can see you’re more than a bit of a dick.”

“I’m pretty sure you felt how much of a dick I have.”

“Oh my god,” Yahaba groaned, smacking his forehead. “Oh, and you’re going to apologize to me and the team for your outburst today.”

“Like hell—” 

“Kentarou, I won’t tell you again,” Yahaba interrupted. As he passed his slack-jawed newly acquired boyfriend, he gently guided his mouth closed. “Now, be a good boy and get it over with so when we leave tonight, we can get back to more… carnal activities.”

Yahaba had never seen Kyoutani move so fast in his life. He sped out to the gym, bowed properly and shouted to the floor, “I’m sorry!” 

Watari missed the ball he’d been diving for, Kindaichi ended up blocking a ball with his face and Kunimi stared at them, his eyebrow quirking up ever so slightly. 

“That’s enough,” Yahaba said, rubbing his forehead. “Get back in line for spikes.”

Kyoutani took off without another word and as Yahaba made his way to his position Watari said, “So, it looks like things went… well…”

Yahaba smirked, picking up a ball and tossing it up. He set it to Kyoutani who smacked it to the ground on the other side of the net with a satisfying thud. “You could say that,” he replied, not giving away more than that.


End file.
